On the Road Again

The first time I met my Uncle Morris was the Halloween that he and my Aunt Debbie took my sisters and I out Trick or Treating waaaaay back in the early 80’s. As most homes are at least 1/4 mile away from each other, Halloween in rural Ontario involves a lot of getting in and out of the car. At some point, Morris started singing “On the Road Again” when we got back into the car and it stuck. We sang the first few bars of that song each time that we got back into the car that night and when we got to the point where we no longer knew the words, dissolved into a pile of giggles. Not just a gentle humming of the tune either… like with most things that Morris did – it was sung with exuberance and passion… and we all followed his lead. So much so, that I’m sure the next house up the road could hear us coming. Morris’s willingness to express whatever was there for him – as loudly, or as gentle and thoughtfully as he felt necessary – was something that I came to love and respect about him. He allowed himself to live within a wider range than most do – and he gave all those around him permission to do the same.

Last week, Morris left this earth to move onto his next adventure… and for the first time in two and a half months, our family wishes we were not travelling and that we were back home. One of my friends posted a few days ago on facebook a description of grief being love… love that we wanted to give but can’t… and it has no place to go. Morris had a special place in the hearts of each member of the Little-Green family. We are feeling that love that we wanted to give in the future that has no place to go. Our hearts are back home right now with Debbie, Aaron, Matt and Andy.

After my own Father’s funeral, I remember sitting with Uncle Morris and listening as he talked thoughtfully about my Dad… and reflected on what he had learned from him. It was a conversation that I appreciated, and meant a lot to me. I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few days about what I’ve learned from Uncle Morris, through how he lived his live. I think that it almost goes without saying that he was a principled man. He thought carefully about his actions and whether or not they were aligned with his faith, and if they were a reflection of his values.

One of my Uncle’s gifts was the ability to see the greatness in others. He loved to tell stories, and his introduction of the main characters of those stories was always crafted so that he could convey his respect and admiration for their talents and gifts. You always wanted that main character to win in Morris’s stories. This carried over to how he spoke about his children as well. He always talked about his sons with such love and respect for their abilities – and with great excitement about whatever they were taking on. He was so very, very proud of his boys.

We will miss you Morris, and we all know that we are better people for having known you.

Share this:

Related

About the Author

Professionally, I am an e-learning instructional designer who breaks down the barriers of space and time in learning. Personally, I'm the Mom in the Little-Green Family, and co-planner in our adventures.